


it's not fair to deny me

by Anonymous



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: AU, Crack, Denial, F/M, Pouting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 22:37:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1112341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Legolas's considerable distress in no way resembles jealousy. Not at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's not fair to deny me

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a discussion on fail_fandomanon about how The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug made Legolas/pouting my new OTP. Set in some weird AU where Tauriel takes Kili back to Mirkwood to finish nursing him back to health, and Thranduil is somehow okay with it. Title is taken from "You Oughta Know" by Alanis Morissette.

For the first 2,854 years of Legolas’s life, injustice had not featured heavily in his experiences. As prince of the woodland elves, his every need was provided for, his every desire addressed with respectful consideration. He did not get everything he wished for, of course, but for centuries he had been able to rely on achieving at least some small part of his requests, no matter how outlandish. His life had been eminently just and pleasant.

This must be, he thought, why the presence — nay, the existence — of Tauriel’s little dwarf-pet preyed so upon his nerves.

He stalked through the woods around the fortress, staying just out of range of the sentries’ hearing. It wouldn’t do to have his father summon him when Legolas was in such a state of distress. This was particularly true since his father was the partial cause of the distress, having granted Tauriel’s ridiculous request without a second thought. If Thranduil had used his better judgment for a moment, for but a _second_ , he never would have allowed a captain of the guard such a bizarre privilege. A dwarf, in the heart of the fortress, unbound, granted access to their finest healing arts and deepest hospitality. The very idea was intolerable, and the fact that it had happened over Legolas’s entirely sound objections was worse still. What did it say about their kingdom when the king would respect the lovesick folly of a mere soldier over the reasoned arguments of his own son?

Legolas shook his head briskly, sending his hair cascading back over his shoulders, and marched deeper into the forest. Such treasonous thoughts were as uncharitable as they were unwise. Indeed, they obscured the true causes of his displeasure: Tauriel and her dark, mysterious, entirely repulsive lover.

He turned the focus of his outraged musings towards Tauriel and her imprudence. Not only did this shameful episode represent a stunning lapse in her tactical judgment — who was to say that the dwarf was not an extremely dedicated spy, deliberately taking a wound in order to gain better access to the secrets of Eryn Lasgalen? — it revealed a horrifying lack of romantic judgment as well. A _dwarf_? The very notion was disgusting. The creatures were small, stocky, far from graceful, and covered in thick hair. Every elf with an ounce of aesthetic sense found them abhorrent.

Granted, Tauriel’s pet in particular appeared to be well-muscled rather than stocky, and had shown a surprising amount of grace during the fight at the river gate. And Legolas’s brief — unintentional! — glimpse into the healing chambers while the dwarf was being bathed had revealed a much sparser dusting of dark hair than expected, in a few interesting places.

Legolas whirled and plunged his knife viciously into the leftmost eye of the spider that had been sneaking up behind him. Clearly the extraordinary nature of the situation was affecting everyone’s better judgment.

He rounded on the second spider, knives flashing, but before he could bring its repulsive life to a satisfying end, an arrow streaked out of nowhere and pierced it through the top of its head, killing it instantly. Tauriel leapt down from the tree above Legolas.

“I didn’t expect to meet you here,” she said, glancing around for signs of a third monster and finding none. “Out for a stroll?”

“I didn’t expect to meet you here either,” Legolas echoed. “Shouldn’t you be back with the healers, tending to your dwarf?” He refused to let his face curl into a sneer. He would not give Tauriel the satisfaction of knowing how this affair distressed him.

“Kili is much improved,” Tauriel said. “He rests now in my chambers. If you are concerned about his condition, you are welcome to visit him yourself.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Legolas asked, cleaning the blade of his knife and sliding it back into its sheath with a sharp sound of metal on wood.

Tauriel regarded him with a cool expression, then smiled. “If I were you, I would choose to visit before the evening meal. I cannot say what may pass afterwards, but the door of my chamber will almost certainly be shut, with good reason.”

Legolas ground his teeth. “I know not what you mean.”

“Are you that much of an innocent?” Tauriel asked with a smirk on her face. “Surely you know that male dwarves are built much the same as males of any other race? And in some respects, rather better, I must say—“

“That holds no interest for me,” Legolas said, perhaps a bit too loudly. Several birds took off from the surrounding trees, frightened away to other parts of the forest. “And I am sickened to hear you speak of it.”

“Truly,” Tauriel said dryly.

“Truly,” Legolas repeated icily. “Your actions in this case have shaken my good opinion of you to its very core. To return from chasing down the last of the orcs who dared invade my father’s domain, only to find that you had been seduced by a lowly dwarf? Sickened does not begin to cover it.”

“Seduced?” Tauriel raised her eyebrows. “Then you admit that dwarves may have some charms worthy of attention?”

Legolas did _not_ stamp his foot. He merely readjusted his stance in a particularly emphatic way. “I admit nothing of the sort.”

“It seems we must live with our disagreement, then,” Tauriel said. She moved past Legolas in the direction of the fortress. “I will hold out hope that you will come visit. Kili feels a great deal of gratitude towards you for your role in the fight in Laketown, and assures me that all his kin will be equally grateful when they learn of it. Perhaps one of them can teach you to see the beauty in their kind.”

Legolas could think of no civil response to that. He turned his head to stare into the depths of the forest, tossing his hair so it would not obstruct his vision.  
“Do not tarry too long in the forest,” Tauriel said. “The midday meal approaches, and it would be a shame for you to have to forage for leftovers in the kitchens should you return too late.” 

Legolas heard her run off, then, making her way towards the fortress and her doltish, ugly, not-at-all-compelling paramour. His stomach twinged, complaining at its emptiness, and he almost turned after her, but the indignity of following Tauriel home would be too great to bear. Teach him to see the beauty in their kind, indeed. He cursed her silently, unsheathed his knives, and went off in search of more spiders to slay. His motion in no way resembled a flounce. Not even a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> I had a hell of a time finding any information on how old Legolas is supposed to be; the number used in this fic is assuming that he was born in TA 87 (as claimed in the 'official movie guide' for LOTR) and that the events of TH:DoS take place in TA 2941.


End file.
